If Tom thought about a hospital right now he might have a heart attack. He's spent too long being fearful of them on Ziggy's behalf. What could they do that they aren't here? Maybe a soundproof room?

"The dread, a few days. The screaming, a few hours." Tom says quickly but there's relief in seeing someone else here to comfort Ziggy. There were others but they came and went as their health needed. Maybe Tom was just a glutton for punishment but it was more a father's reluctance to abandon an injured child.

Rondo's voice does cause a hiccup in the screaming. A moment of uneasy silence before another cry breaks. This one is quieter because he's exhausted and momentarily distracted by the presence with them. He lets go of Tom and lays down on the bed, feet in his father's lap, head in Rondo's and curled up into a tight and tiny, for his height, fetal ball. Hands over his head and the cries coming with sobs interspersed. Tom feels like it makes them louder now that there are soft sobs punctuated by deafening cries.

"It's more than heartache." He tells Rondo, assuming that Tommy told him something of what was happening like he had the others. "He has to break the mental and emotional bonding."

Tom had one of those with his wife and he couldn't imagine breaking it. He might lose his mind if someone tried.